The Butler, Incensed

He slammed the door behind him, frustrated-no, infuriated. The candles in the room reacted to his temper, sparking to life, the flames disproportionately large and violent on the wicks. His eyes were the virulent, feline scarlet again; his teeth were gritted, and he narrowly managed to stop himself from throwing the heavy oak desk across the room and through one of the walls.

Instead, his grip on the wood tore chunks from it; he hunched over the desk, trying to reign in his temper. It was unlike him to be so volatile, but the events of the past three days had taken a toll on his patience.

Some part of his mind knew it really was his own fault, but it was so much easier to blame it on the other. So much easier to say that none of this would be happening if he'd never come into the picture; so much easier to begin cursing that day, nearly a week ago now, and to hate the teasing, flirtatious attitude that had lured him into this state.

His own distractedness was perhaps a large part of the troubles that had ensued since the reaper's visit. It had proved very difficult to cease from replaying the moments before the man's departure in his mind, whether cursing himself or the other for the lack of satisfaction, or wondering idly what would have happened had he not fled. Regardless, it had begun to interfere with his daily duties-once so badly that he'd nearly forgotten to prepare something for the young master's lunch-and had done nothing to help the brat's demanding and impatient attitude. Human perfection-easily enough attained when he thought about it-was expected of him, and lately he'd been falling short of his mark.

It didn't help that the other three servants were habitually hopeless, but without constant supervision, it had been even worse than usual; there was a laundry list of repairs and corrections to make on top of his typical chores, which, apparently, had become too much for him handle on their own.

And, after everything-after the mocking, flirting coaxing, and teasing-after he'd given in, given him exactly what he'd wanted for so long-he'd vanished without a word!

He began pacing, too restless to keep still, feeling like a caged animal in his room.

Three days ago he'd been here-taunted him with his actions, playing with him like a puppeteer controlling a marionette. He hadn't seen hide or hair of him since.

That manipulative-cowardly-bastard-!

With a snarl that bordered inhuman, he lashed out, slamming his fist into the mirror.

Was it his imagination-? Or perhaps one of the candle's flames reflected in the falling shards-? One of them had glinted a distinct red...

He whirled, surveying the room, lips drawn back in a sneer; the irritation in his cut hand wasn't helping his mood. The flames reflected the augmentation of his fury; the candles were almost burned down.

He took a moment to steady himself; the walls were beginning to blister. Yet another chore to see to.

Slowly, the flames calmed, shrinking to an appropriate size. Leaning against the table and sighing deeply, he passed his uninjured hand over his face, pausing with his fingertips propping his head up and surveying the room, eyes still glowing as he sneered at the walls.

"...Such a fiery personality, Sebas~chan..."

That infuriating cackle-!

He whirled, the anger returning at the all-too-familiar, shameless groan of a voice, ready to tear the creature to pieces-

His breath left him in a sudden rush; the reaper had grabbed his wrist in one hand, thrusting the other into his abdomen, lifting him upward...

He was slammed onto his back on the floor, his wrist still captive, his chest pinned beneath the other man's knee.

"...You're bleeding."

"What-?"

He didn't respond, but he could see it was true; the glove on the hand Grell had captive was streaked with blood. At the moment, he was using his free hand to tug off the remainder of his glove and pick shards that had lodged in the cuts from his skin.

"Tsk, tsk...seven years bad luck...~"

Sebastian stared for a moment, rendered incoherent by the sheer force of the dozens of emotions that had flooded him; the two strongest urges were either to jerk his hand away and punch him squarely in the face or pin him down and kiss him until he could taste the man's soul.

As it happened, he didn't have the opportunity to do either. Pulling his handkerchief from his vest pocket, the reaper dampened it with the water in the washbasin and began wiping the blood away.

"Oh my~you certainly did a number on your hand, my love...even you'll need stitches in this if you want it to heal quickly..." He was rummaging in another pocket, this one in the red coat he always wore. "Do you have any objection to allowing me the honor~?"

"What-? No..."

A sewing kit; that was what he'd been looking for. Sebastian watched as he selected a needle, running it through the dying flame of one of the candles ("To prevent infection~I'm not sure if you can get one, actually, but better safe than sorry, no~?") and stringing a bitten-off length of black thread through it, before carefully beginning to sew up the wound.

"...All done..."

He stood, carefully packing the kit up again and tucking at away in his pocket. Sebastian slowly rose as well, inspecting his hand.

"Do you typically take out your frustration on the objects in your room?" Grell asked, inspecting the desk as he pulled new candles from a drawer. "I wouldn't have expected that from you..."

The anger that had faded flared again, briefly, but he subdued it, beginning to pick up the glass shards to keep himself occupied.

"...Where have you been?" He asked, hoping to sound casual; there was something of a bite to his voice, but he hoped it would be overlooked.

The reaper giggled.

"Have you missed me~?"

...It was on purpose. He did it on purpose.

"...Do you realize...what I've gone through these past few days?"

He sighed, switching the candle on the wash table, where Sebastian was piecing the mirror back together.

"...If you must know..."

He crossed the room, passing close enough that Sebastian could catch the light, sweet scent that floated from his hair.

"...If I must know...?"

Grell busied himself with an apparently stubborn candle, his back to Sebastian.

"...I was watching..."

"You were what."

His voice was flat, but steel lined each word. Grell gave a one-shouldered shrug, tossing his head.

"I was curious to see how you'd react," he says, trying not to let the smile on his lips infect his voice. "...If what I'd done didn't have the effect I desired...I wouldn't have come back."

Sebastian's voice was a growl uttered through clenched teeth.

"...What...'effect'...did you want...?"

The smile came through in the voice this time.

"Yours."

Sebastian turned, the mirror shards a solid piece again.

"...You wanted to put me through hell before you were going to-?"

He turned to Sebastian, suddenly serious, a wistful smile playing across his mouth.

"...I was making sure you weren't going to change your mind." He gave a soft, sad laugh. "If you changed your mind in the course of a day, how was I supposed to be sure you wouldn't change it back just as quickly?"

"...You think three days is ample time?"

"If, after only three days...you were forgetting orders from your master?" Grell was moving slowly back toward him again, emerald eyes locked on the ruby. "...I'd say that's not something to take lightly."

He stopped mere inches away, head tilted to one side, the smile widening, growing sweet instead of sad, lips closed over the foreboding teeth.

Sebastian looked away, rosy red kissing his cheeks again. He coughed, clearing his throat, unable to meet the emotion in the sparkling eyes.

"...Well...I suppose that's surprising to me," He finally says, his voice unsteady. "...From the way you act, I'd never guess all the thought that you put into these things."

"No, I suppose not..." The smile was wistful again; he slowly pulled off his gloves, tucking them into a pocket and stepping closer. "But love...is something... I never take lightly." His eyes passed over the smooth, elegant profile of Sebastian's likeness; he touched his chin, turning the demon's face back toward his own. "...It's not a word I throw around carelessly."

Still unable to meet the emerald gaze, he took the hand that had shifted to rest on his cheek; it was delicately formed, the fingers elegantly long and thin.

Before he could truly begin to learn its shape and feel, it was jerked from his grip; the reaper had taken a step back, hands clenched together behind his back.

"...What-?"

"N-nothing...!" His cheeks were burning red now, and he was fumbling with his gloves again, hastily tugging them back on. "Just give me a moment..."

"Grell, you just-! What-?"

He looked up as Sebastian said his name, a smile flickering over his lips-it was nice to hear him say it-but he was still flustered, and remained so until both gloves were securely on his hands again, the skin hidden away beneath the black cloth.

"...Why won't you let me see your hands?"

"Is it really so important-? I mean-really-"

There was legitimate panic in his eyes; his hands were held again behind his back. Sebastian stepped toward him, curious.

"...Please."

He was worrying his lower lip again; it looked almost as if he would puncture the soft flesh. He stared firmly at the floor, shaking his head. There was a semi-forced laugh in Sebastian's voice as he spoke again.

"...What could possibly be so bad about them...? I didn't notice anything..."

He reached out, laying his own hands lightly on Grell's elbows, slowly following the arms, wrapping his hands gently around the slim wrists.

"...Grell..." He rested his forehead against the reaper's, eyes gently closed. "...There's nothing about you that could make me change my mind."

A whimper passed the full lips as Sebastian's hands touched his own, but he didn't resist the gentle tug, only hanging his head as his gloves were pulled off.

He set about memorizing them by touch, smiling at the smooth, unmarred skin on the backs of his hands. They were beautifully shaped, well-suited for the deceptively slight frame they belonged to.

He took one in both of his own hands; Grell tugged the other down to his side, shoving it deep in a pocket as Sebastian turned the other, exposing his palm.

"...Is this what you were so concerned about...?"

He traced the calloused flesh with one of his own fingers, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. Of course; gripping his scythe would toughen the skin on the underside of his hand. Priding himself on his beauty, his softness, this would indeed be something he loathed and tried his best to hide.

"...You shouldn't worry so much..." He murmured, pressing his lips to Grell's palm.

He looked up as Sebastian curled his fingers around his kiss; pressing close again, the demon cupped his cheek in has palm, his thumb passing slowly over the high cheekbone.

"...Imperfections, after all...are what make things interesting, aren't they...? A diamond's flaw is what gives it its value..."

He tried to turn his face away, his cheek burning red against Sebastian's hand, but the demon gently guided his gaze back toward his own.

"...Oh, no..." There was a soft, almost dangerous laugh in his voice. "...You denied me once..." He pressed closer, tilting Grell's chin up ever so slightly and smirking as he gazed into the viridian eyes. "You didn't think I'd let you get away with that again, did you?"

The green eyes widened, but it wasn't panic or fear in them; he obliged to the gentle tug that invited the kiss.

He gasped softly as their lips meet, the demon's softer than he'd expected. His kiss was sweet, tender; to his own surprise, it betrayed none of the lust he felt.

Sebastian slipped his hand into the thick, heavy locks of Grell's hair; his lips were full and soft and perfect as they caressed his with a touch they'd both been anticipating. Despite the tension that had built between them in the denial of what they both wanted, the kiss remained innocent and gentle; the reaper bit his lip as he pulled out of the tender display.

"...You've wanted to do that for a long time," Sebastian murmured. He nodded, nuzzling his face into the demon's neck.

"...Maybe..."

Sebastian laughed, taking Grell's face in his hands and once again pressing their lips together. He brushed a lock off hair out of Grell's eyes.

"For all your skill as an 'actress'...you couldn't come up with a more convincing lie?"